writer artist mother

 The mist rises off the black asphalt and the cacophonous birds let their presence be known. On the Georgia piedmont the creeks overflow once a year to signal that Earth Mother will always be in charge of this land. I borrow space on this land from the Cherokee and Creek. Ancestors remind us to steward this land, the land forged by Black slaves and sharecroppers. As a Jamaican now rooted in this lush, giving blood-toiled land, I give thanks and I am humbled by the foremothers that fought for my right to be here. I will always stand by their daughters, as they grow alongside my own.

From a little house not too far from the city, I raise children and their animals. I am a woman longing to blossom from an unknown blogger into a true writer of the new American canon. Bodhisattva Harlem Mama is the name I christened myself in 2005. I share my writing and art to the world in this online space. My children as growing scholars and artists show themselves occasionally in this space. The blog is a creative outlet I am quite proud of. But no writing contracts or awards have come from my steady plodding. I’m a disabled (bipolar), queer, Black woman with few connections to the publishing world. I need to grow these connections by joining the writing world and learning from other great storytellers.